The World's Mightiest Heroes
by doubleox515
Summary: At a world meeting, the countries of Earth discover the arrival of the most notorious villain the Earth has ever known: Loki. With many of their treasured nations taken as hostage, the Allies and Axis must contact the famous Avengers for help. But the Avengers are missing and it is now up to the Allies and Axis to save the day. Will they do it or will the Earth fall to ruin?
1. Prologue

**A/N: HEY GUYS! So, this was a request from my good friend Mona, who wanted a Hetalia/The Avengers crossover fanfic. And this is the result. Don't worry, I am still working on my other stories: they will be completed eventually.**

**ENJOY.**

**Disclaimer: The Avengers belong to Marvel and Hetalia to Hidekazu Himuraya. I own nothing but the idea.**

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A billowing wind began to brew, ruffling the fine strands of the dark hair upon the man's head as he stared over the rooftops of the small country town. His heart was beating erratically as he thought of his impossible task ahead. A weapon, cold and heavy, was clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white. He was terrified, shaking from head to toe.

'Get a move on, you bastard!' a voice in his ear bellowed and, cringing from the pain, he wrenched the ear-piece away and threw it to the ground.

His palms were sweaty and the weapon was slipping from his grasp. Taking a shuddery breath, he leapt off the hill and trundled down, sliding with the upmost finesse. Hair flying this way and that, a few tears of fear fell down his cheeks.

Landing with a satisfying, quiet _thump_, the man quickly ran to his destination: a remote cottage on the outskirts of the village. Its walls were cracked and covered in vines, its windows dusted and grimed. The garden was overgrown with weeds and the footpath was the soil for the grass that grew in-between the splits in the cement. Pushing slightly on the creaky, peeling gate, he entered the front garden and slowly made his way to the entrance.

'Don't tell me what I need to do! I am not a child, you fool,' came a voice, stern and challenging, from the inside of the aged building. 'I may be married to you but I can make my own decisions, starting with choosing who my friends are!'

Another voice – a man's voice – began to rise in anger, its accent unknown to the man's ears.

'Elizabeta, do you have _any _idea what is going to happen – '

'Of course I do! But you can't stop me from trying!' Elizabeta shrieked and the sound of stomping feet made the man dive into an unkempt shrub nearby. The door slammed open and, standing in the doorway, was a beautiful woman with long, brown hair, an orange flower holding back one side. Her large green eyes were alight with a fiery determination and she picked up her lime coloured skirt, stalking away from the house. Almost immediately, a man rushed out, a worried expression etched onto his face.

'Elizabeta!' he called after the retreating woman but she was already gone. Swearing loudly, he went back inside, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

From amidst the bush, the man let out a long breath in relief. _Good, they didn't see me, _he thought. _But… what is she doing here? More importantly – who is she?_

Before he could make any movement, the gate opened and another man, one with white hair and a smug grin on his pale face strolled up and into the house. The man in the bush let his mouth fall open. Suddenly, in less than a second, his impossible mission had turned into the simplest one he had ever received.

With a feeling of newfound courage, he stepped sneakily into the building and shut the door softly behind him. As he neared the closest room, he heard the two men talking, both with undistinguishable accents to their tones.

'Was that Lizzy I just saw leaving the house?'

'Yes… it was.'

'Why did she leave in such a hurry? She didn't even stop to have a go at me for showing my face like she usually does!'

This was the moment; if he missed it, he would not have another chance. The man gripped his weapon and entered the room, pointing it at the two startled men in front of him.

'Hands up and don't move a muscle,' he ordered, moving forwards. The men exchanged a puzzled look before obliging to the demand. The man with the white hair had his brow furrowed and the man next to him had his violet eyes wide in fright.

'Switzerland not here to save your arse now, is he?' the armed man sneered at the purple-eyed male, a cocky smile forming on his face. The frightened boy he was on the hill only moments ago had turned into something more sinister; the weak little thing was only a façade. This was who he truly was: a madman with a plan.

The men's expressions changed into ones of alarm but then the snow-haired man began to laugh.

'What are you talking about?' he asked, one fine, silver eyebrow raised. 'Who the hell is Switzerland? The last time I checked, Switzerland is a country, not a person.'

'Don't think I'm stupid, I know who you really are – how this world really is,' the man warned, striding confidently to the confused man and pinning him to the wall. 'I know _exactly _what is going on around here. You aren't actually human.'

The man leant forward and whispered something in the other man's ear. The man against the wall looked extremely astonished, his crimson eyes wide as the meaning behind the former's words sank in.

'How do you know? No one but our bosses know that!' he exclaimed, looking fearfully at his friend.

'Well, there is no point in hiding it,' the other male said, turning to stare at the man with an indomitable glint in his violet orbs. _He is smarter than he looks, _he thought, as he let the befuddled man go. 'But what I want to know is – who are you and what are you doing here and more importantly, how do you know about us?'

'That is none of your concern,' he replied, pointing his weapon at both men again. 'What you should be concerned about is the state of the world – or should I say – your relatives?'

'Who the hell are you?' asked the crimson-eyed man, swiftly taking out a sword from the depths of his travelling coat. The man's eyes glittered with malice as the thought of battle took over his mind.

'You want to know who I am? Fine,' he said, aiming his spear at the albino's head. 'I am Loki.'

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**A/N: Review? Reviews are love~**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, I've decided to be nice and post the next chapter up today. Aren't I a nice one? The next chapter will probably be up tomorrow at some point for it is going through a whole heap of editing.**

**ENJOY.**

**Disclaimer: ****The Avengers belong to Marvel and Hetalia to Hidekazu Himuraya. I own nothing but the idea.**

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'SHUT UP, FROG FACE!'

'I'll give you, "shut up", you punk!'

'_How many times have I told not to call me that?'_

'Too many times, Angleterre and yet, you cannot stop me because you know it's true!'

Staring blankly at the two fighting men in front of him, Alfred rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

It was yet another world meeting and, again, Arthur and Francis were at each other's throats. _The meeting hasn't even started! _He thought incredulously to himself, his chin resting in his palm, his eyebrows furrowed. Alfred was too tired to join in on annoying the British man, as he usually did with the Frenchman and he was rather worried, something that was very unusual for the American.

_Where is everyone?_

Counting the heads of the countries that were present, Alfred noticed that several of the Europeans had not arrived. Checking his watch, he noticed that they were late by at least half an hour. Now he felt extremely confused.

'I will hack you to pieces, you French bastard!'

'Oh yeah? I don't believe that because I will turn you into a pancake by the time I am finished with you, you English tart!'

'WILL YOU TWO KNOCK IT OFF?' Alfred bellowed, glaring at the two men. The room fell silent as every pair of eyes on every head turned to Alfred. Never before had they seen the young man like this: angry, intimidating and tense – that was often Ludwig's reaction when he had had enough.

'Can't you – for once – just shut the hell up?' he said wearily, standing up and scanning each face in the room.

Arthur and Francis stared at Alfred in surprise, their hands still grasping the other's neck. No one said a word as Alfred continued to gaze at the company around him, his lips moving silently as he counted each person again.

'Where is Germany?' he asked to the room beyond. There were mutters of surprise and shock. Ludwig was never late to a meeting – he was usually the first to arrive.

'And where's his brother?' Alfred said again, standing up from his seat, his blue eyes filled with concern. 'Hasn't anyone noticed just how many of us are missing? Look around – about half of us aren't here.'

'America, you are jumping to conclusions,' Arthur told him, walking up to him, having finally let go of the Frenchman. 'I'm sure everyone has their reasons for being late –'

'But that's the thing!' Alfred interrupted him, looking pleadingly at him. 'They are half an hour late. Half an hour! That's blasphemy in Germany's book.'

Arthur said nothing for he was too shocked. He quickly checked his own watch and his bushy eyebrows rose. Before he could express his astonishment, the double oak doors were slammed open and in the doorway stood a very dishevelled Ludwig.

The other nations stopped their miniature discussions and gawked, wide eyed, at the German country. He looked terrible – and so out of place. His golden hair was sticking out in every direction and his icy-blue eyes were bloodshot; his uniform was crinkled, his shirt untucked, his buttons undone on his jacket and his Iron Cross was absent from his neck. In his shaking hand was a piece of paper, crumpled and torn.

'Whoa,' Alfred mumbled, his cerulean eyes round behind his glasses. 'Dude – you look like crap.'

This remark earned him a slap upside the head from Arthur.

'Shut up, you git!' he hissed as Alfred rubbed his sore spot with a pout. 'Germany, where have you been?' he directed at Ludwig, concern imminent in his gaze. 'We were getting worried.'

Ludwig looked sharply at the Englishman, confusion written on his face.

'What are you talking about?' he said loudly, straightening up and glaring at Arthur. 'Why were you worried? There is no need to be worried.'

Everyone exchanged startled looks with the person sitting next to them. Alfred gave a low whistle and glanced at Arthur anxiously. He saw that Arthur was flabbergasted.

'Not be worried? Are you insane?' Arthur whispered, striding forwards to the unkempt man and looking at him fixedly. 'You are half an hour late, looking like you've been through the blender and you expect us not to be worried?'

Ludwig's furrowed brow shot upwards, turning his face into a look of alarm. Alfred felt a feeling of pity blossom in his chest. He didn't know how, but something had happened to Ludwig – something horrible.

'I'm late?' Ludwig breathed, quickly checking his appearance for flaws. 'But – I was sure – why do I look like this?'

'Dude, sit down and tell us what's wrong,' Alfred soothed, taking the German's arm and leading him to his usual seat. The room was so silent Alfred could've sworn he heard a paperclip drop. Then, there was the sound of scraping chairs and he was pushed out of the way by Kiku and Feliciano.

'Oh Germany, you gave us such a fright!' Feliciano wailed, hugging Ludwig and Alfred was surprised to see that Ludwig did not protest. On the contrary, he let his blonde head fall on to the Italian man's chest and his eyes fluttered shut. Kiku had his serious gaze fixed on the paper in Ludwig's hand as he bent his head down. He whispered something into the German's ear and carefully pried the piece from his limp fingers.

He gave a gasp as his eyes scanned the page, a hand flying to his mouth. Alfred shot him a puzzled look but it went unnoticed by the Japanese male.

'Germany-san… I don't know what to say,' he murmured, placing a hand gingerly on Ludwig's shoulder. Feliciano lifted his head, a curious expression on his face and Kiku handed him the paper wordlessly. Not moving from his position, Feliciano quickly read the note and let out a quiet scream, both hands clasped over his mouth. He peered down at Ludwig's head, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks as he shook his head in disbelief.

Alfred felt completely baffled. He peeked at Arthur and the others through the corner of his eyes and saw that they, too, were overwhelmed at the sudden turn of events. Walking soundlessly towards the trio, Alfred picked up the fallen sheet from the floor and asked Ludwig quietly for permission to read it aloud to the rest of the countries. His response was merely a half-hearted wave of his hand. The American man took a deep breath and read the mysterious note out.

'"_You are probably wondering what on earth a suspicious looking letter such as this is doing on your doorstep,"_' he read, his voice echoing in the large room. '_"The truth is – and I am going to be blunt here – I know your secret and because of this, the world has changed tremendously. Will change tremendously, I should say. _

'"_That being the case, I shall hope we will come to some form of agreement of how this world – now mine to control – will be informed of the future alteration from their current leaders to me. If not, then I'm afraid your brother and his friend will suffer –"'_

Alfred's blood turned cold and the area around him filled with the shocked gasps and mutters from every country in the room once again. He reread the last line in his head before taking an audible gulp.

'"_If not, then I'm afraid your brother and his friend will suffer from tortures that your puny human minds cannot comprehend,"_' he continued, his voice shaky, horror etched onto his face. _'"Oh, but I forgot, you aren't actually human, are you? That is your secret – and don't I know it?_

'"_Now that I've warned you, I expect you to meet with me, alone, to come to a decision on the twenty-fourth of this month. I will be waiting – and watching your every move."_'

Feliciano gave a choked cry as Alfred let his lifeless hands fall to his sides. He felt hollow, blank, as if the world had ceased to exist. He fixed his gaze on Ludwig's slumped figure; he wanted to say some consoling words but such words never came. His throat had a lump, constricting his speech. Even if he could speak, there were no words that would be able to describe Alfred's sympathy for the German.

'Meet where? Who does this freak think he is?' Francis pondered, his flirty and flamboyant air replaced with hatred and coldness; Alfred felt rather frightened at his change of character. 'More importantly – _who _is he? He didn't bother to leave a signature – am I right, Amerique?'

Alfred met Francis's dark blue stare and gave a stiff nod before he sat on the edge of the table in front of Ludwig.

'Hey – Germany,' he began, raking a hand through his dark blonde hair. 'You listen to me. Prussia is going to be fine because we are going to find this son-of-a-bitch and make him pay.'

Ludwig, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand, looked swiftly towards Alfred, his flushed face showing a look of initial shock.

'I know what you're going to say,' Alfred interrupted, holding up a hand as Ludwig opened his mouth uncertainly. '"It's impossible," – "It's not going to happen." Dude, if you think we are going to let Prussia and whoever his friend is suffer – if you think we are going to sit back and watch it all unfold – you're wrong.'

A couple of minutes passed with Ludwig just staring at Alfred with a relieved, astounded and grateful expression. Just as he gave Alfred the smallest of small smiles, the double oak doors burst open once again and Elizabeta ran in. She looked wildly around before her eyes settled on Ludwig. With a heaving sob, she threw herself on him, weeping loudly into his shoulder.

'They took my husband!' she cried, embracing Ludwig tightly. 'They took Austria!'

A stunned silence followed that lasted for several seconds before being broken by Feliciano's gasp.

'They took Mr Austria as well?' he asked quietly, hugging both Elizabeta and Ludwig.

Whatever Elizabeta was expecting to hear, it wasn't that.

'They took someone else as well?' she inquired, wonder in her tone, moving out of Ludwig's grasp and staring at Feliciano. Feliciano gave a brief nod, saying, 'Si. They have Mr Prussia too.'

Elizabeta gave a shriek and Alfred – who was closest to her and the only one quick enough – caught her as her knees buckled. She was shaking her head wildly and she clung onto Alfred like a lifeline.

From the stories that he had heard from Gilbert, he and Elizabeta, along with Roderich, had grown up together as children. Despite the constant fighting and arguing, the teasing and the annoying, the one thing that Alfred remembered Gilbert saying was that they still cared for each other; they would do anything to save the rest if anything were to happen; that their relationships were closely tied.

'Hungary-san,' Kiku said tentatively, his brown eyes filled with concern. 'How do you know that Austria-san was taken?'

Elizabeta didn't say anything as she thrust another piece of paper in Kiku's direction. He read it quickly and muttered, 'It's exactly the same as yours, Germany-san.'

'It is?' he questioned, his icy eyes round as he seized the note from the Japanese man. His eyes raked over the letter and his eyebrows shot up. 'It is.'

Much to everyone's surprise, Ludwig stood up and his normal, business-like demeanour returned. His scary, intimidating manner showed from the darkness of his gaze to the deep crease in his brow.

'So, we know that my bruder and Austria have, somehow, been kidnapped,' he announced to his company. 'Now – whoever this person is – they have no idea just what they have gotten themselves into. We are countries! We are strong, regardless of the fact whether we are small or large! We are going to show this person – this madman – just exactly what we are capable of – together!'

Noises of approval and cheers from the rest of the countries bounced off the walls of the meeting room. Alfred smiled hugely at Ludwig.

'He's right!' he proclaimed, his chest puffed out proudly. 'Are we just going to let this guy take not just one, but two of our own? I think not!'

More cheers came and Alfred was about to continue when he felt a great, stabbing pain in his side. He winced slightly, not wanting to worry anyone even more. Sadly, much to his disappointment, Arthur noticed.

'America, are you alright?' he asked, walking up to Alfred and staring at him in anxiety.

Alfred scoffed, 'Of course I'm fine! I'm the hero! The hero is always –'

But he broke off with a grunt as he doubled over, a hand holding him up on a nearby desk, the other his side. The agony was so intense that it made Alfred see white; he could barely hear Arthur's worried yell or Francis's gasp of horror. He screwed his eyes shut and his face contorted.

'America! _America!_'

Suddenly, there was a loud _crack_ and Alfred opened his eyes to see a massive break in his glasses.

'Texas! My Texas!' he squeaked in fear but then his knees gave way. He felt two arms hold him up and Arthur's frightened tone.

'America, what's wrong?'

Oh, he knew what was wrong, of course but it made him more terrified than when he watched his horror movies. This scared him to such an extent that he didn't know what to do.

Alfred just managed to choke out, 'New York and Texas – being attacked,' before he fell into the cold, black darkness.

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**A/N: SUSPENSE! :D Review?**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi guys! So, here is chapter 2! YAY! I'm just going to say something before you go off and read. I just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed and reviewed this story. Honestly, I am over the moon. And seriously, 4 reviews in less than a day? I am shocked, overwhelmed! THANK YOU.**

**Now, enough of me and on with the story!**

**ENJOY.**

**Disclaimer: The Avengers belong to Marvel and Hetalia to Hidekazu Himuraya. I own nothing but the idea.**

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The city of New York was in flames. Screams from the citizens ripped the cool evening air and the honking of car horns came from every corner. The entire area was chaotic and it brought a smile to the Asgardian man's thin face. _Oh how I've missed this, _he thought, watching as the city fell into ruins in a matter of seconds.

His eyes settled on the country standing next to him and his grin broadened wickedly. The man's bespectacled eyes were no longer the soft lavender kind but a harsh, mystical blue. The very colour swirled in his orbs, creating some sort of enchanted nightmare. His white jabot fluttered in an ominous wind that had begun to brew and his long navy coat flapped around his ankles. His hand was outstretched in front of him, the long, gloved fingers clutching the golden spear that had the same twisty supernatural manner as his eyes in the centre.

'Good work, my man,' Loki said cheerfully, stepping behind him and prying the weapon from his grasp. 'You've done well today. Now, let's go and see how your friend is doing, shall we?'

With a wave of the golden object, the blue returned to violet in an instant and a bewildered expression replaced the domineering one. The eyes behind the square spectacles widened in horror as they took in the mass destruction of the town.

'_What have you done?_' he hollered at Loki, his hands fisted at his sides. Loki gave a cruel laugh and seized the man's jaw, bringing it up to his own face.

'I did nothing,' he replied silkily and he was pleased to notice a shiver go down the man's spine at his tone. 'This – was all you, Austria.'

Roderich's eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of his head as Loki let him go harshly, shoving him to the ground. Spitting dirt and sand out of his mouth, he sent the long-haired man above him a glare.

'Where are we?' he growled, getting to his feet clumsily. 'Where are we and where's Prussia?'

Loki took a minute to consider his reply.

'Where are we?' he repeated, walking around the Austrian male like a wolf circling his prey. 'We are, my dear fellow, in the city of New York.'

'New York?' Roderich queried, anxiousness identified in his voice. 'We're in America?'

Loki looked at him weirdly, his eyebrows raised high.

'Well, as far as I know,' said Loki, drawing out each word as if he was speaking to a mere five-year-old. 'New York is found nowhere else but the United States of America.'

Roderich's face paled faster than a set of traffic lights. He spun around, perhaps thinking that he could fix what he had done but he was pulled back as Loki grabbed the back of his coat, hulling him backwards.

'Where do you think you're going?' Loki sneered and once again Roderich ended up on all fours on the ground.

'Please – England will kill me,' Roderich gasped, clutching his chest. 'You have no idea what this does to a country! If anything happens to America, England will be after my blood – not to mention France and perhaps Canada as well. You've got to let me fix this monstrosity!'

The Asgardian was surprised at this proclamation and he gawked at the fallen man in wonder. _I was not expecting that, _he thought wistfully, sending a calculating gaze down at the Austrian, who gave him an intense leer in return.

'Might I ask – what exactly does this do to a country?' he asked, indicating the burning embers in the buildings and streets around him. Roderich huffed and turned his head away from Loki's scrutinizing gaze, mumbling, 'Like I would tell you.'

'Fine. But what I'm worried about is my brother coming and ruining my perfect plans,' Loki snarled, his eyes sweeping the area, searching for any signs of unwelcoming figures. He missed Roderich's astonished expression but he heard the alarmed, 'You have a brother?'

'Yes, I do – unfortunately,' he muttered quietly, shutting his eyes and heaving a great sigh. 'We were once close – but not anymore. Now he is my enemy, along with his silly little gang. They beat me last time but now no one can stop me. Not when I have the world's countries on my side.'

'"Gang" – what?' Roderich mused, highly confused. Loki opened his eyes and sent Roderich a grim smile.

'Yes, his gang – they call themselves the Avengers,' he explained, a permanent scowl on his face and his tone sarcastic. 'The super solider, my brother the demi-god, two master assassins, a man of iron and a green raging giant: Earth's mightiest heroes.'

'Sounds like one of America's superhero movies,' Roderich murmured thoughtfully but then his voice turned harsh. 'And who said that we are on your side? Like hell we are! Mein Gott, what would they say if they heard that? I, for one, would _never _join your side willingly – and that goes for Prussia as well! That goes for us all!'

'Oh?' Loki jeered, baring his teeth. 'And yet – you did this, not me.'

Roderich got to his feet and puffed out his chest stubbornly, retorting, 'But you _made_ me do that. Just imagine what the rest of the countries are going to do to you once they find out what you've done. I know many that are not as forgiving as I am – especially when their brothers and sisters, friends and comrades, are involved.'

'Is that a threat, Austria?' Loki asked lightly, his eyebrows raised delicately. 'For it would be unwise to fulfil it. I have an army – what do you puny countries have?'

Loki's smug expression faltered at the superior air surrounding Roderich, whose lips were turned up at the corners and whose eyes flashed dangerously.

'Truthfully, we have only each other,' he admitted with a small shrug. 'But when we are provoked, we –'

He broke off with a slight gasp as his eyes settled on a sight beyond Loki's vision. Spinning around, he saw a tall, skinny figure gradually coming their way throughout the thick dust that had settled upon the ruins of the city. When they came into view, Roderich let out a small scream and Loki a satisfied laugh.

'No… this is not you!' Roderich yelled wildly, his violet eyes round in horror as they drank in the cruel image.

Standing pompously a few feet away, a haughty grin on his face, was Gilbert. His arrogant, though somewhat gentle crimson gaze had been replaced with the same misty, swirly blue that made him look like some sort of living Jack Frost, complete with his silver hair and pale complexion. His Prussian blue uniform was stained with grime and blood, and his hands were naked, the gloves having been misplaced. In said hands, his glistening sword hung limply by his side.

'Gilbert, nein! Das ist sie nicht! Zurück zur normalen!' Roderich yelped madly, running up to the Prussian male and shaking his shoulders. 'Verstehst du mich? Tell me you understand what I just said!'

'Was zur Hölle? Get off me, you weirdo,' Gilbert snapped, shoving Roderich away.

Seeing that Roderich was ready to cry was evilly pleasant for Loki. He enjoyed watching people suffer but for some reason, it was bliss to see a powerful country weep.

However, he was not expecting the solid punch to his face. He fell backwards, one hand on his stinging jaw and he saw the murderous look on Roderich's face.

'Turn him back,' he growled softly, a pink tinge flushed across his cheeks. 'Turn him back to normal, you kaltherzig bösewicht!'

Loki looked shocked, his grey blue eyes wide as he stared at the Austrian man. After a couple of stunned seconds, he let out a low, grim chuckle. Roderich, however, was unfazed as he raised one eyebrow coldly and crossed his arms firmly over his chest.

Rolling his eyes, Loki swiftly waved his golden weapon in Gilbert's direction. Gilbert's figure slumped and his scarlet eyes returned almost instantly, puzzlement filling them. He blinked several times and his brow furrowed in confusion as his normal gaze settled on the scene in front of him.

'What on Earth?' he muttered, quickly looking around in terror, taking in the overturned cars and the endlessly burning buildings. 'What happened here?' he directed at Roderich, who looked away in shame.

'He happened,' Loki gloated, nodding at Roderich. Gilbert's head snapped towards him, feeling completely overwhelmed. He shook his head in denial, looking from Loki to Roderich in disbelief.

'But never mind that now,' Loki continued, getting to his feet and fixing his crinkled clothing, dusting himself off. 'We have other business to do – for starters, checking out the damage you caused in Texas, my friend,' he added, giving Gilbert a glowing smile.

Clicking his fingers, a shadow fell over the ruins of the city. Roderich and Gilbert lifted their heads and stared in awe at the darkened sky. They did not notice the two silhouetted figures come up from behind them until they yelped in shock: they had the nations locked firmly in their grips.

'Are we ready?' Loki asked them, getting a response that sounded like waves crashing into a cliff. He seemed to have understood their answer for he swished his cloak, brandished his spear and disappeared, taking the countries in tow, leaving the city of New York to smoulder in his wake.

**oOo**

Getting over the fact that his brother was missing, Ludwig had gone from thoroughly depressed to highly alert. Alongside Francis, he tried to calm down the raging Englishman, attempting to move him away from the fallen American boy.

'Whoever did this – I'll kill them!' He kept shouting and Ludwig, giving up after several minutes, lifted him up on to his shoulder and carried him towards the other end of the room.

'What the bloody hell are you doing, you wanker? LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT!' Arthur hollered at the German man but Ludwig paid no attention. When he reached the far end, he set him down and gave him a glare, causing Arthur to shut up.

'I think that the others will agree with me when I say that you need to calm down!' Ludwig told him sternly, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the head of shaggy blonde hair. 'We will find out what has happened to America, along with my bruder and Austria. However, what we will _not _do is act like a flock of headless chickens!'

Arthur looked down in shame, his cheeks going red. He mumbled something incoherent, shook his head and buried his face into his hands.

'You don't understand, Germany,' he muttered into his palms, sounding hysterical. 'America is my responsibility – ever since he was my colony in the seventeen hundreds. Do you know how hard it is to distance one's self away from the most precious thing to them because of a war?' Arthur lifted his head and looked imploringly at Ludwig. 'Well, that is what I have to do. I hate it – I hate being so harsh and ignorant towards him but I have no choice! I am a man whose heart has been broken but don't think that is going to stop me worrying about him. So don't you dare tell me to calm down!'

The room fell silent; Ludwig's eyes were wide as he looked at the Englishman. Arthur's own emerald orbs went round as he realised what he had said and he swore loudly.

'Forget that I said that,' he said quickly, waving his hands frantically in front of him. 'Forget everything I just said!'

Arthur turned away, cursing himself and sat in a vacant seat away from the prying eyes of the other nations. Ludwig gazed at him sadly; thoughts of his own flitted around in his head. He would probably feel the same if anything like that had happened to Gilbert or Feliciano, even Kiku. Just because he appeared frightening and cold on the outside, that didn't mean that he was heartless.

There was not a sound to be heard in the large meeting room. Ludwig noticed that Francis was being exceptionally quiet, something that was very unusual. His expression was one that Ludwig had never seen on his face before: sympathetic. _Since when does France empathise with England? _He thought incredulously, gawking at Francis.

Shuffling feet caught everyone's attention and Ludwig was surprised even further when he saw Feliciano standing beside Arthur. He looked very serious and Ludwig's mouth fell open at his sudden change in character.

'England – you don't need to be ashamed about still liking America,' Feliciano assured, placing a hand on Arthur's arm gingerly but kept it there when he didn't brush it off. 'He was your brother after all. Look at me for example – I am not ashamed to say that I like _mio fratello_, Germany and Japan very much. It's okay for you to show it.'

'Italy, I appreciate the sentiment,' Arthur interrupted, looking more miserable than ever. 'But I'm afraid it's too late to make amends. What's done is done.'

With that, he stood up and left, walking briskly through the double oak doors without looking back. Feliciano looked hurt and Ludwig felt a sudden urge to comfort the young man but he resisted. _I must keep my image!_ He told himself harshly but he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling to go to the Italian man.

Suddenly, there was a low, pitiful moan from behind him. Spinning around, Ludwig took in the stirring form of Alfred, whose long body was spread out across several desks. As Alfred made to the subtle attempt to sit up, he was quickly stopped by Francis, who told him, 'That is not a good idea, Amerique.'

Alfred sent him a glare but he remained lying down. He moved his hand to the bridge of his nose and let out a yelp when his fingertips met nothing.

'Where are my Texas?' he cried, forgetting about Francis's warning as he sat up, only to weakly go back down with a groan.

Francis placed his hands on his hips and deep frown formed at his temple.

'I told you to stay down!' he scolded. 'Why don't you listen to me? Anyway, your glasses are with Angleterre.'

His mouth in a 'o' shape, Alfred's azure orbs searched for the face with the familiar bushy eyebrows and permanent scowl amongst the sea of nations.

'Where is he?' he enquired, looking up at Francis with a quizzical expression on his childish face.

Before Francis could reply, Ludwig cut across him, saying, 'He went out – urgent phone call.'

Ice blue met dark cobalt and the two men came to a silent agreement: they would not tell Alfred about Arthur's confession. That was his task, and his alone. The lie burned Ludwig's tongue but he would rather Arthur tell Alfred his feelings himself then spill the beans and get into trouble.

Alfred sat up again – slowly this time and flinched as he did so, his hand flying to his side. He moaned softly, swinging his legs over the edge so that he was sitting.

'Man, I feel like a truck ran me over,' he joked, laughing lightly. He sent the rest of the nations his signature megawatt smile, his eyes sparkling with obnoxiousness.

'We were so worried about you, America!' Feliciano wailed, running to the American and hugging him tightly.

'I-Italy!' Ludwig yelled, grabbing Feliciano's shoulders and pulling him away from Alfred with difficulty. 'He is injured! Don't make it worse!'

Feliciano looked down at his feet, having let go and sniffled. Ludwig's hard expression went soft and guilt hit him like a wave. He opened his mouth several times, making him look like a goldfish, trying to find the right words.

Then, he got hit in the head – rather harshly – from behind and he let out a yelp.

'_Patate_ _bastardo!_' came an angry voice, which Ludwig knew belonged to Lovino. 'Stop being mean to Veneziano! He was just being nice, dammit!'

'Romano!' Feliciano exclaimed, seizing Lovino's sleeve and dragging him far away from Ludwig. 'You didn't have to hit Germany! He was just being cautious!'

'Why do you still stick up for him – even when he is being mean to you?' Lovino retorted, sending Feliciano a glare.

'Why do you always tell him off and try to hurt him?' Feliciano shouted, his eyebrows contracted and his mouth set in a thin line.

Soon, the two Italian brothers were arguing; Antonio and Francis later intervened in to break them up, only to result in them joining in. The other countries tried to put in a say but started having conflicts with each other. The meeting room was deafening: yells from the nations fighting, the sound of weapons clanging with another – it was turning into a normal, regular meeting, which Ludwig did not like.

'EVERYONE SHUT UP!' He bellowed and, gradually, the brawling ceased to a halt. Silence fell upon the area and no one dared breathe a word – not with the fuming expression Ludwig currently had on his face. Just as he opened to mouth to start screaming, there was a _ping _sound coming from Alfred's pocket.

'Oops, sorry,' he muttered, digging around in his jacket pocket until he pulled out a pager. Ludwig stared at the pager, curiosity taking over him. He watched Alfred's eyes scan over the message; Alfred let out a gasp and the machine dropped from his grasp, landing on the floor with a _thud_. His eyes were round in horror and hastened to pick the pager up again but he let out a loud groan, clutching his side.

'I'll get it,' Ludwig mumbled, bending down and plucking the beeper from the ground. He handed it back to Alfred and he noticed just how pale his face had gotten.

'A-America? Is everything alright?' Ludwig asked him, concern embedded in his tone. His orbs went wide as Alfred shook his head.

'No Germany,' Alfred stammered, his hands shaking. 'I'm afraid things have just gone from bad to worse.'

There were hums and murmurs of puzzlement from the nations gathered, and Ludwig urged Alfred to continue.

'I guess there's no other way to say it other than… the world is in terrible danger,' Alfred explained and he read out the message on his machine.

'_"__Stage 3 – Code Red. Stop. Danger Alert. Stop. Avengers Initiative terminated. Stop. S.H.E.I.L.D authorities compromised. Stop."_

'Basically,' Alfred continued, having placed the pager on the table next to him. 'There is no one to save us now. We are doomed.'

* * *

**A/N: DUNDUNDUN!**

**Hope you enjoyed and please feel free to leave a review!~**

**Translations:**

**_German:_****  
Mien Gott: My God  
Gilbert, nein! Das ist sie nicht! Zurück zur normalen!: Gilbert, no! This is not you! Turn back to normal!  
Verstehst du mich?: Do you understand me?  
Was zur Hölle?: What the hell?  
kaltherzig bösewicht!: cold-hearted villain!**

**_Italian:_****  
Mio fratello: My brother  
Patate bastardo: Potato bastard (:D)**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: He. Hehe. *looks when last updated and dodges flying things* I'M SORRY IT'S LATE OKAY?!**

**I have perfectly good reasons!**

**1. School**

**2. No inspiration**

**3. No motivation**

**4. NO TIME**

**But hey - it's finally here! And it's nice and long :3**

**I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with my lateness and for all the awesome reviews you guys have left.**

**I have also noticed that a few of you are asking for the Nordics to appear in the story. Guys - the Nordics were in it from the beginning. I have a little something planned for one of them (who of which you will find out in this chapter and the next) so don't worry - they're in this.**

**Anyway, enough of me:**

**ENJOY.**

**Disclaimer: The Avengers belong to Marvel and Hetalia to Hidekazu Himuraya. I own nothing but the idea.**

* * *

The room went into chaos as Alfred's words sunk in but Ivan Braginsky was unfazed. He sat in his chair, a permanent childish grin on his babyish face as he watched the mayhem in front of him unfold.

'Oh my God, we are – like – all going to die!' Feliks screamed, hiding behind a bewildered Toris. 'We are totally going to die! We are doomed – _doomed!_'

'P-Poland – get off!' Toris stammered, trying to push away the flailing Feliks.

'It's okay, Latvia, don't cry,' Eduard soothed, rubbing small circles on Raivis's back as the petite nation wept into his hands.

'What are we going to do, Oz?' asked a tiny country with large green eyes and eyebrows as thick as Arthur's, gazing intently at a man with wild brown hair and a plaster across his nose.

Ivan saw Jett look down at the mess of light brown hair warily. He knew that he did not want to say anything that might frighten the New Zealander. He mouthed something into the other's ear and patted him reassuringly on the head.

The Russian felt someone tap his shoulder and as he turned in his seat, he came face-to-face with Natalia. The familiar fear that coursed through his veins whenever she was around him came back with vengeance.

'Big brother, I'm scared,' she whispered and she looked away in shame, a flush of red going across her cheeks.

Eyebrows shooting upwards, Ivan tried to look mildly surprised but failed when his expression formed into one of disbelief. Natalia never admitted she was scared of anything, let alone tell him of all people; she was a very headstrong girl who constantly spoke her mind, even about the most bizarre things – especially marriage.

For the first time in his life, Ivan felt pity blossom in his chest at the sight of his younger sister: her slender figure was shaking slightly and her violet eyes, much like his own, were shimmering – he was strongly reminded of the Baltics when they seemed to shiver and shake whenever they were in the same room as he was.

He put out his arms, a genuine smile forming on his chubby face. Natalia sent him a weird look at his actions but slowly wrapped her arms around Ivan's neck, sitting comfortably in his lap as she rested her cheek on his coat-clad chest.

Whispering calming words in Russian in her ear, Ivan rubbed a soothing hand on her back. She gave a hum in response and hugged her brother tighter. If anyone were to look at them now, they would have been astonished at the position the two of them were in: Natalia not chanting 'Marry me, marry me,' and Ivan not trembling from terror, screaming at her to go away.

The pair of them stayed like that for a while amidst the others, the turmoil in the room reaching tremendous levels. Neither of them said a word, just merely savoured the other's company and warmth, thinking reassuring thoughts.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd of nations as the doors opened for the third time that day and Arthur strolled in, looking positively gloomy. Ivan had never seen the Englishman so upset: his expression matched one that would be seen at a funeral, with tear tracks visible on his cheeks and his usually bright jade orbs were dull and emotionless. Ivan felt rather intimidated and he glanced at Alfred, who had shock horror etched on his countenance as he took in his former brother.

'What the bloody hell is going on in here?' Arthur asked, one bushy brow raised high. 'I could hear you all from three floors down!'

Feeling sheepish, the other countries looked away from Arthur's scrutinizing glare: some whistled awkwardly, others gazed down at their feet – only Jett stared back at Arthur.

'Big brother, are you feeling alright?' he inquired, tilting his head to the side. 'You seem a bit down, mate.'

'I am perfectly fine,' Arthur muttered quickly, digging his hand into his trouser pocket. He withdrew a pair of cracked spectacles and held them out stubbornly in Alfred's direction. 'These are yours.'

Ivan watched as Alfred's terrified demeanour changed rapidly into a delighted one at the sight of his glasses. He took them from Arthur and put them on, frowning as he peeked at the giant crack in the right lens.

'That's a pain,' he grumbled, sitting back down carefully. 'So is that,' he added as he eyed the pager sitting next to him ruefully.

'America, aru,' Yao began, staring at the device disapprovingly. 'Just… what is the problem? I have never heard of "The Avengers Initiative" before, aru – or S.H.I. E.L.D. Has anyone?'

Ivan and the others shook their heads. True, none of them had ever heard of these things but Alfred's reaction was enough to make them panic.

Alfred blanched and ran his hands up and down his face. 'The problem is bigger than it sounds, China.' He glanced up at the rest. 'Do you guys remember what happened in New York last year? You know – massive alien attack, random guys in suits saving the day? Giant green guy smashing things?'

A series of images zoomed about in Ivan's mind at Alfred's words: a man in a red, white and blue suit, a large shield whizzing from his grasp; a flying iron armour of red and gold, holding a hefty missile and heading towards a shrinking black hole; a humungous acid-green monster, roaring and destroying everything in its path; a man that looked like a Viking, sporting a winged helmet and a hammer that struck lightning from the sky; a nimble, agile archer, standing on the edge of a skyscraper, a trusty bow in his hands and a woman with fiery, red hair, two pistols shooting at anything hostile. The people seemed familiar to Ivan and his eyes brightened as he realised who they were.

'I remember!' he exclaimed, a large smile growing ecstatically. Alfred was taken back, shooting the Russian an alarmed stare. 'I remember watching it at home after it happened. To be honest, you should be thanking me, da?'

'Thanking _you_?' Alfred sneered lightly, his specs flashing dangerously. 'Why the hell would I do that?' Ivan gazed calmly at him.

'Because the woman is Russian, no? Only Russians have that kind of power to fight,' Ivan replied coolly, silently relishing the flustered, furious expression on the American boy's face.

'Why you –'

'We are getting off topic!' Tino yelled, his violet eyes hard. 'Ja, we recall that incident. What do they have to do with any of this?'

Tino shrunk back at the deadpanned appearance of Alfred's countenance. Ivan saw Berwald stick his chest out proudly like an alpha wolf, staring down the American while placing a protective arm around Tino.

'Everything,' Alfred answered dully, paying no attention to the Swedish man's defensive stance. 'They are the key thing to this. They _are_ The Avengers – they are what makes The Avengers Initiative. Without them, we would all be nothing but chaos.'

A few exchanges of wonder buzzed around the room, sounding like a swarm of angry bees. Each and every pair of eyes settled on Alfred after several moments, waiting with baited breath for more information on the matter.

'They have saved the Earth countless times,' he continued, his hair sticking up as his hand went through it. 'So, in reality, they have saved our butts a lot. They've been around a while too.'

Alfred turned to Ludwig at this point, saying, 'Germany – may I recall a certain incident with Hydra in World War Two?'

Ivan felt confused: _Hydra? What on Earth is that? _All eyes were set on Ludwig and the nations were startled to see the German blanch considerably.

'T-That – that was…' he spluttered, looking beseechingly at Alfred. '_He _is part of… them?'

'Oh yeah,' was the reply and Ludwig seemed highly uncomfortable. 'He was the first of many. A super soldier, determined to take down that organisation, especially after they assassinated the Professor.'

'But that was _years _ago!' Ludwig argued, 'there is no way in Hell that that… man is that age! He looks twenty, for God's sake.'

'Yeah, I know,' Alfred retorted, 'so do we and how long have _we_ been around?'

'Ja, but he is a mortal, we are not,' Ludwig added, his hands on his hips.

'Oh, for the love of –' Alfred fished out a USB stick from his pocket and huddled over to the computer in front of a large projector screen. 'Here – I'll show you.'

The machine hummed into life and all Ivan could think was how this superhero could be so… old, yet look so young. Sure, he realised that everyone in this room were much older than they looked but they had a reason to be. They were countries! This kid wasn't: he was merely an experiment – at least, that's what the Russian had heard.

The room was suddenly cascaded into darkness as the lights were switched off. The countries dared not to speak a word as the screen flashed and soon, they were viewing a spinning logo: S.H.I.E.L.D.

'The Avengers are made up of superheroes, patriots of the world and I'm sure you've all heard of at least one of them,' Alfred began as he sat in front of the mainframe. 'Now, the truth is, The Avengers Initiative didn't commence until the actual attack on New York last year. So, in all honesty, it's fairly new. However, the superheroes themselves have been around for much longer.

'For starters –' Ivan blinked rapidly as a picture of a tall, young man filled the screen. 'Captain America has been in the world since before the Second World War. He was originally an experiment, conducted by one of Germany's infamous scientists: Doctor Abraham Erskine.'

The image of Captain America zoomed to the corner as another picture took its place: an older man with flyaway grey hair and glasses that made his eyes much bigger than they actually were.

'Due to this doctor's invention, Captain America became known as the super soldier, the one that would defeat the Nazis once and for all. I mean no offense Germany,' Alfred said quickly, shooting an apologetic smile Ludwig's way. He merely waved a hand and urged Alfred to go on.

'Anyway, Captain America did some pretty awesome stuff: he saved multiple troops from capture and stopped Hydra from destroying the world. But during that time, he was piloting a plane that had very dangerous weaponry and a cube of light known as the Tesseract.'

Ivan watched as yet another picture flitted onto the screen, this time, a small cube of blue, swirling with an unnatural aura. He was instantly fascinated.

'Now this thing may look pretty,' said Alfred, 'but it's actually dangerous – if it's put in the wrong hands. It has infinite power and is sought by many, many individuals. The Avengers' enemy was one of those guys.'

Alfred's voice distorted as Ivan kept his gaze locked on the hypnotic swirl of azure. Ideas popped into his head about how he could use it against his greatest foes and a smile spread across his babyish face at the thoughts. He wasn't aware when the image was replaced by one of an iron suit, being too fixed on his violent feelings. _Oh, the things I could do to that bloody moron_, he mused as the American's grinning face formed in Ivan's mind. _He would be begging me for mercy._

'RUSSIA! ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?'

Ivan snapped his head towards the voice, his sinister expression swiftly changing to an innocent one.

'Da, I am,' he sang, blinking naïvely at Alfred. He huffed in irritation, glaring at him for a second before turning back to the presentation.

The lecture went on for about another half hour and Ivan had to admit that Alfred certainly knew his stuff about this organisation. He learnt more about these superheroes faster than when General Winter taught him about military commands when he was younger.

'So now you know each one and just how they've helped us,' Alfred concluded, his tone sounding raspy. He gave a soft cough before adding, 'And now you know why this is such a problem. Since they're gone… we're goners. I'm lost about what to do.'

He chuckled bitterly. 'Some hero, huh?'

All was silent as Alfred's statement floated about in their brains. Ivan felt a spark of sympathy for the American but it quickly vanished as his resent for Alfred took over. There was too much bad history between them to feel anything but hatred towards each other.

Fixing his scarf, he glanced to the side and met the horrified appearances of his sisters: Natalia's lavender orbs darted around the room, her fingers twisting in her lap and Irina bit a knuckle, tears forming at the corner of her lids. Something exploded in Ivan's chest at the sight and the sudden urge to defend them overwhelmed him. They were the only ones he would do anything for, even if Natalia scared him to such an extent that he cried.

Ivan moved his seat and positioned himself in front of the girls, a little grin on his countenance. They gaped at him, hurriedly collecting themselves, supposedly normal again.

'You don't have to pretend,' Ivan murmured, his tone sincere. 'I know you're afraid. You can talk to me, da?'

'I-I can't, remember?' Irina mumbled, her line of sight settled on the floor. 'My boss told me I wasn't to speak to you again.'

'Oh, come on, Ukraine,' Ivan coaxed, lifting her head by the chin so she could look at him. 'We're family – and who cares what your boss says? You're my big sister. You're allowed to talk to me, da?'

Irina gave him a watery smile and nodded, grasping his hand. 'Just as long he doesn't find out, right?'

'Of course, starshaya sestra,' he replied, squeezing her hand. He held out his other to Natalia who immediately took it in hers. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as a yell came from below them.

Ivan froze, as did everyone else. The scream had been heart-wrenching, distraught and it had sent a shiver down Ivan's spine. There was something in that cry that was off – something that didn't belong in it.

Emotion.

'What was that?' Kiku proclaimed, his russet irises wide in alarm. Everyone strained their hearing, trying with all their might to identify the owner of the shout. Antonio walked over to the door and pressed his ear against it, as if hoping to listen through it.

'There doesn't seem to be anything,' he told the room, his palms flat on the wood. 'It's just… quiet.'

'Are you sure, mon ami?' Francis queried, looking warily at the entrance. The Spaniard merely nodded.

Ivan pulled Irina and Natalia into his torso, his protective side taking over. He could sense the bewildered gawks of the others but he didn't care. No matter what, he was not going to let anything happen his sisters.

Suddenly, a loud _bang _reverberated on the walls as the doors were slammed open, sending poor Antonio flying backwards.

'I will not let anything happen to him!' a voice hollered and Ivan was astonished to see a familiar man clad in blue storm into the meeting area. 'Do you understand, you thick-headed idiot?'

'You've got to see sense, Norway!' another voice retorted, this one belonging to a male attired in a black coat with a red shirt underneath. 'I don't know where he is and neither do you!'

'I DON'T CARE!' Lukas screeched, waving a fist in the Dane's face and Ivan noticed a piece of paper clutched in it. Each person gasped at his outburst; no one had ever seen Lukas radiate with so much passion and no one had certainly seen him scream at Matthias. That was usually shown by him choking him with his own tie. 'He's my brother and I won't rest until he's safe! Do you – I just…'

Lukas trailed off, choking on a sob as he fell to his knees. Matthias immediately went down with him, consoling the Norwegian as best as he could. He was soon joined by Berwald and Tino, and it was then that Ivan realised that someone was missing.

'Might I ask?' Arthur began after a strained moment, striding towards the four gingerly. 'Where's Iceland?'

This proved to be a mistake on Arthur's behalf as Lukas let out a wail, his head falling into his hands. Matthias sent the Englishman a heated glare, growling, 'Idiot. Isn't it obvious?'

Tino yelped in horror and all eyes landed on him. He had taken the paper from Lukas's grip and it was now sitting on the carpet in front of him. He looked up at the rest of the nations, whispering in dread, 'It's the same as the others. They've taken Iceland.'

Groans and sharp intakes of breath filled the room. Ivan gripped Irina and Natalia closer, his eyes stabled on the Nordic men. Matthias furrowed his brow in confusion.

'Others?' he repeated, 'what others?'

The Finnish man appeared uncomfortable, glancing around the space for approval. When no one objected, he answered, 'Prussia and Austria have been taken hostage too. Both Miss Hungary and Mr Germany received notes this morning.'

The Dane's eyebrows shoot upwards towards his hairline, his jaw falling open in shock. Lukas ceased crying momentarily, his expression matching Matthias, mouthing, 'You've got to be joking.'

Tino shook his head and Matthias craned his neck, searching for someone until his azure eyes rested on Ludwig and Elizabeta.

'I'm so sorry,' he told them, much to everyone's surprise. Ludwig merely sent him an imperceptible nod, his mouth set in a thin line and Elizabeta gave him a weak beam.

'We're… we're going to find them, right?' Lukas asked, 'we're going to save them from this… _thing_?'

'Of course!' Alfred exclaimed, pumping a fist in the air before moaning faintly. 'I'm fine, I'm fine,' he assured them, sitting back down.

Matthias and Lukas looked worriedly at Alfred, having not been there for his collapse. Ivan saw Berwald quickly fill them in, his voice low before Alfred continued.

'Listen, Prussia is one of my best friends,' he admitted, his eyes downcast. 'Like hell I'm going to stand by and do nothing. I know how much he means to you, Germany and I know how much Austria and Iceland mean to you guys.' He acknowledged Elizabeta and the four Nordic men. 'I have a feeling that they aren't the only ones missing though – I mean, look around. There are so many people not here and it's not like them to miss out on a meeting.'

Ivan's eyes scanned the nation's faces, identifying each one in his head, his brows raising when he saw just how many weren't to be seen. Alfred was right – people were missing, gone without a trace.

_Where have they all gone?_

Suddenly, there was a harsh, raucous ringing and the area was flooded with a red light. _The fire alarm, _Ivan concluded. Irina yelped and clung onto Ivan as if he were a lifeline, Natalia following suit seconds after. Puzzlement of the countries filled the atmosphere, questioning murmurs being exchanged between groups.

'Is it a fire drill?'

'What's happening? Is the place on fire?'

'I'm sure everything is going to be okay, everyone! Just calm down and let's move out in an orderly fashion!'

Then –

'ARGH! THERE'S SMOKE COMING FROM UNDER THE DOORS!' Feliciano cried, pointing a shaking finger to the great, double oak doors. Black smoke was billowing out from underneath, along with a blue glow; Ivan was strongly reminded of the Tesseract that Alfred had talked about earlier. Before he could make his way over to investigate, the ground began to shake beneath his feet.

Shrieks and shouts of fear split the air as people tried to stand without tumbling over. Ivan ran over to nearby table, Irina and Natalia in tow.

'Get under the table!' he yelled to them, 'I'll go and find the Baltics! Don't move from there!'

As he stood, he was pulled back and met with a pair of glimmering sapphire spheres. 'Be careful, little brother.'

Out of nowhere, Ivan kissed Irina's forehead and ran off. He dodged the others as they frantically moved about, calling, 'Lithuania! Latvia! Estonia! _Where are you?_'

'I can't open the doors, aru!' Yao bellowed and as Ivan went past, watching as he struggled with the knobs. 'They're locked!'

'That's impossible!' Arthur countered, holding onto the edge of a desk for the dear life of him. 'Those can't be locked! They have no locks in them!'

'Then _you _try opening them, aru!'

Yao took out his wok and ladle, banging them against the wood. He was soon joined by Matthias, who had retrieved his battle axe. The Dane swung it at the door but no matter how hard he hit it, the blade didn't go through it once.

'We need some help here!' he requested and soon, Antonio was by their sides with his own weapon, much like Matthias's own. The trio swung and clashed on it but no matter what they did, they made no damage on the doors.

Ivan could only gawk in horror as the entrance and their only exit refused to open. He felt the cool metal of his own weapon between his fingers. He sensed someone studying him and he turned his head, seeing his sisters and the three Baltic states huddled together under the table where he had left Irina and Natalia.

'GET OUT OF THE WAY!' he hollered at the trio trying to break the doors, withdrawing his pipe from his coat. They spun around, alarmed but moved as they spotted the murderous expression on the Russian's features.

No way was Ivan going to stand by and let the disaster unfold when there were people he needed to protect – and no quaking, burning building was going to stop him.

* * *

**A/N: Hehehehehehe I'm so evil~**

**Never fear, my dears - all shall be revealed!**

**RAH RUSSIA'S SO OUT OF CHARACTERRRR I'M SORREH D':**

**Also, Irina is one of Ukraine's names that Himaruya chose for her that he liked. I know that many people use Yekaterina(thank you to the Guest who corrected my spelling) but to be honest, I prefer this one. More information can be found on her Wiki page :3**

**Reviews are much appreciated :3**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello everyone!**

**I know I know, this is epically late, you don't need to tell me D:**

**This took so long to finish due to school and Performance Week. The Show went well, excluding a couple of minor mishaps but other than that, our School Show was so AWESOME OMG. **

**But now I am exhausted D:**

**And I have two assessment tasks.**

**Fun.**

**ENJOY**

**Disclaimer: The Avengers belong to Marvel and Hetalia to Hidekazu Himuraya. I own nothing but the idea.**

* * *

He tried to stay balanced as the building beneath his feet shuddered and quavered. A strong aroma of burning material wafted past his nostrils and his line of sight caught the swelling, black wave of smoke pooling from the cracks below the doors. Kiku saw the multiple nations of the world cowering under the tops of the tables, embracing each other in fear; only a handful of countries remained up and about, making an effort to find a way out. Kiku's own pupils searched for an exit, failing to locate one and a low growl bubbled in his throat. His mind raced as he tried to pinpoint the whereabouts of his comrades, relatives and closest friends.

There was a bull-like roar, which made Kiku snap his head in the direction of the sound; his irises went round when he distinguished the rigorous, manic appearance of Ivan. His faucet pipe held high, the very air around his figure emitted bloody-murder and the trio by the entrance that were attempting to knock it down scattered in alarm as he charged towards them. The Japanese man could only watch in dismay as the thick object met the end of the wooden ingresses, splitting each one in half.

A stunned silence fell upon the room – save for the blaring ringing of the drill – and all eyes turned to the Russian. He was breathing heavily, his weapon hanging limply in his grip, its peak rested on the floor. His vicious expression had changed into a shocked one, his lilac orbs fixed in awe on his work. Ivan seemed amazed that his plan had worked but there was something about it that seemed extremely off to Kiku: the doors had managed to survive two battle axes and a lethal set of cooking ware – how did they manage to break by a mere metal cylinder? _It's too weird…_

Suddenly, there was a chorus of shouting, startling Kiku even more: 'GET AWAY FROM THERE!'

The four males by the egresses spun around, puzzlement gracing their features, completely oblivious to the harsh, azure light seeping through the fissures in the oak. Kiku wanted to warn them but he found his voice stuck in his throat. He couldn't speak, couldn't convey his caution and the mystical shine began to brighten considerably behind them.

Loud humming ruptured the atmosphere and the ground quaked vastly, rougher than ever before. Kiku saw Matthias spin around, the pale skin of his countenance glowing as he stared at the doors in horror.

'RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!' he hollered, herding Yao, Antonio and Ivan away from the entrance, travelling towards a desk furthest away from it. None of them objected, especially once their own eyes had settled upon the scene.

Kiku squinted as the luminosity behind the wood progressed to higher standards, the severity almost blinding him. A hand in front of this face, the Japanese male noted three shadowed figures bolting en route for the gleam, each one varying in size. He caught the colours of jade, crimson and cerulean, along with olive, maroon and cobalt. He racked his brain for the identity of them but it was too frazzled with extreme thinking in order to do so.

'On three!' one of them yelled to the others, a palm raised, adorned with a dark glove.

'Are you sure this is going to work?' another rebutted, moving so that a swish of their cloak flickered in the now white beam.

'It has to!' they replied, 'now, on three – one, two, three!'

If the room could be any more intense than it was before, it became so as a mixture of fiery red, emerald green and icy blue united with the silvery illumination, creating a display that put Alfred's Fourth of July fireworks to shame. Kiku's orbs couldn't bear the strength of the combination of the efforts and he found himself covering them with his arms. The only way that he knew what was happening was by the elongated screams of the three and the increasingly shrill drone from the corridor outside, joined by the panicked shrieks from the countries gathered.

Then, there was an thunderous _bang_, sending Kiku's eardrums into overdrive. The lustre beyond his lids vanished and as Kiku lifted his head, blinking rapidly to adjust to the normal appearance of the space, he spotted three sprawled bodies a few metres away from they were standing beforehand, unmoving. He felt his heart stop in dread and he hastily got onto his feet, rushing forwards, sliding to his knees when he reached them. He grasped sight of the fair-haired men, each one attired in various clothing: one in a navy sailor suit, his head adorned with a hat of the same colour, another in a burgundy ensemble, a large, black cape widely spread about his stature and the third in a bottle green military uniform, a thick volume with characters written on the front that Kiku did not recognise set upon his chest.

'Are you alright?' Kiku queried, shaking one of their shoulders gently. 'England-san? – Romania-san? – Norway-san? Say something, any of you!'

However, all that Kiku was met with was silence; a feeling of trepidation coursed through his veins and he felt his world slow down. _What if they're severely injured and we can't actually see it – just like Alfred-kun?_ He panicked mentally, gripping Arthur's arm tightly.

'England-san?' he mumbled weakly, his russet irises fixed on the Englishman's limp physique. Kiku could sense a tense ambience around him and he locked gazes with worried ones from the rest of the nations. Each and every face had concern written across their features as they stared at the fallen men.

No one said a word, and no one noticed that they were joined by another figure standing in the doorway, a superior aura surrounding them.

Kiku jumped abruptly as a hand clutched itself onto his wrist. He peeked down, a strangled laugh escaping his lips as he saw the bushy brows of Arthur's contract in thought. _He's awake!_ His relief was shortly lived, however, as Arthur's eyes snapped open: instead of the calming, nurturing lime he had grown used to, he was alarmed to see that they had turned into a piercing, frosty indigo. A sadistic grin stretched to Arthur's ears and Kiku moved backwards in fright, unable to believe what was he was perceiving. This was not the Briton he had come to know.

'Why, hello, old chap,' he greeted Kiku, his voice several octaves lower than normal and his mouth widened to a point where Kiku thought that his cheeks were going to tear apart. 'Isn't this a nice change?'

Before the Japanese man had a chance to reply, his lost the ability to breathe properly as he was knocked crudely backwards by more than one hand. There was a brief pause where the countries remained in their spots, too surprised to move. Kiku looked up at the looming forms of Lukas, Vladimir and Arthur, noting that they all had matching expressions of malice on their countenances and orbs the same shade of a mystical terror. It was a view that he alleged would give him nightmares for months.

'Aw, isn't this cute?' Vladimir cackled, nudging Arthur and Lukas in the sides. 'The great and mighty Japan is terrified! Just look at him – he's like a mouse trapped by a cat! Some supreme nation, da?'

They chortled amongst themselves, not paying any attention to the rising levels of smoke in the room. The entire area was cascaded with a dark haze and many people were coughing violently into their palms, even though they were hidden and were as low on the carpet as one could possibly be. Kiku's rims were watering and he held back a convulse of his own, though it was proven difficult due to the current situation. This action did not go undetected by Lukas.

'Oh, that's just valiant,' he murmured and Kiku was astonished to make out a passionate sneer embedded to his tone. Lukas seized Kiku by his jacket collar and hulled him to his feet until their noses were merely inches apart. 'Trying to be tough, are we? Trying to be strong by not submitting, are we? As if you could do it. Besides, someone like you doesn't deserve to be an almighty nation – especially since it only took two bombs to shut you up.'

Vladimir and Arthur roared at his remark, clutching their sides and Kiku froze, his heart ripping in two. He knew that Lukas's mind was not in its right state but the words didn't hurt him any less. He kept his gaze on Lukas's as image after image flitted about in his head.

'What is it? Can't accept the truth, lad?' Arthur jeered as Kiku's expression contorted into one of pain – a sobbing woman holding a bloody, mangled body in her scratched, trembling arms, moaning in his native tongue burst into colour and Kiku saw red. It was enough for him to swiftly punch Lukas in the chin.

Seconds after, Kiku hissed and covered his mouth with his injured hand, gawking at Lukas, who was cradling his jaw, groaning in agony.

'I'm so sorry!' he apologised. 'I really am! I didn't mean to!'

'You're going to pay for that,' Vladimir snarled, his canines glinting. 'You with me, Potter?'

'I'm ready when you are, Dracula,' Arthur answered, his palm facing towards Kiku, a dazzling glow ascending from it.

Kiku withdrew his katana in defence, pointing it at Vladimir's torso. The Romanian smiled hugely.

'Bring it on, prietenul meu.'

He threw a ball of inferno at the Japanese man and Kiku dodged it by flying to the left. Adrenaline flowed through his being like a cascading river and a wind as loud as the surrounding _whooping_ rushed in his ears. It was against his better judgement to fight them but the three were starting to scare him with their manic ways and heart-crushing taunts.

However, before he had so much as raised his sword above his head, somebody glided in front of him, their limbs outstretched and their voice clear amongst the fiasco.

'Stop!' they cried, skilfully blocking an enchantment of Arthur's. 'This is not you!'

Vladimir and Arthur halted in their tracks, their smirks turning downwards along with their crowns. Puzzlement flashed across their disdainful spheres momentarily and they quickly exchanged a look. Kiku felt his own brow furrow in confusion as he contemplated the slim, slender person ahead of him.

'Whoever is in this room,' they announced in a monotone voice, spinning around to study each face and Kiku was amazed to see Lukas glowering at everyone in the space. 'Whoever is controlling these two,' he pointed to Arthur and Vladimir, 'you'd better stop.'

'Or else what?'

There was a collective gasp and Kiku felt his blood turn cold. The tone of the mysterious voice sent a chill down to his toes and his heart hammered agonisingly against his chest.

He turned around and was met with the image of a person whose appearance matched Arthur's and Vladimir's. His locks glimmered and stood out against the swirling fog of black, almost as if he was some numinous being. A cruel curve of his mouth showed perfect, pearly teeth and a flicker of pink flashed across them as his tongue went in between them in thought. A fine eyebrow was raised to the stage where it was beginning to disappear into his hairline and his eyes couldn't be seen due to the bangs that covered them.

Kiku was fascinated, but at the same time, horrified. _Who could that possibly be?_ He thought, scratching his head. His question was instantly answered as the stranger's deep tone pierced the strained atmosphere, his pitch causing the other nations to clamber out from under the desks in curiosity:

'Halló, big brother.'

**oOo**

Mist gathered at their feet and a biting cold nipped at their fingers and toes. Their cheeks were dusted pink and their bodies clung together for warmth, the last thing that was present in the place they were currently residing, very much to their displeasure.

'This sucks,' one man scoffed, hugging his knees and snuggling closer to another man that was sitting next to him.

'Oh, well spotted, Stark,' the man on Tony's other side mocked, his blonde hair free from its usual groomed state and his teeth chattering.

'Now, now, there's no need to be snarky, Steve,' a woman with fiery red hair clucked, her shaking figure curled into a stocky chest. Steve snorted and wrapped his hoodie tighter around him, his attention fixed on the starry sky above them.

'I think everyone is a bit uptight at the moment, Nat,' Natasha's cushion told her, his arms snaking around her waist. 'Let them be.'

'Gee, Barton, you sucking up to dear Agent Romanoff there?' Tony teased lightly, his brown eyes alight with a childish glee. Clint blushed deeply and swore at the black-haired man. Tony feigned hurt and pouted, turning his head to the person he was using as a heater. 'Bruce, Barton's being mean.'

'Oh, stop it, you mortals,' another fair-haired man said exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. 'Why are you so petty? And irritating?

'Thor, this is Tony we are talking about here,' Bruce reasoned, looking down at said man with confusion. 'What are you doing?'

Tony peeked up at Bruce, a cheeky grin spreading across his stubbly face, replying, 'Why, using you as a pillow and a contraption that radiates heat, of course.'

Bruce rolled his eyes and proceeded to shove Tony into Steve. He was interrupted, however, as the area around them rippled, causing a hush to settle over the group. They watched in awe and interest as forms began to appear, two of them appearing to be struggling with another pair. Natasha gripped Clint tighter, not wanting to show her sudden fear of the unknown beings. Clint responded by placing a chaste kiss to her forehead, his irises set on the scene like a hawk. Tony sent both Steve and Bruce puzzled looks, which they returned with either a shrug or an arched brow.

There was a _bang_ and the sound of accented voices yelling in a different tongue. Various hues started to blossom, a mixture of what looked white and blue, russet and navy, along with grey, green and gold.

'You idiots! Let go!' a man with spectacles hollered, twisting in the hold of a shadowed individual. Steve stiffened at this voice, nostalgia washing over him: the smashes and cries of soldiers and guns; the crimson skin of his nemesis vibrant against the never-ending flames and explosions; a churning cube of azure… He shuddered at the memories.

'Captain… you okay?' Clint whispered, detecting Steve's discomfort. Steve merely nodded, putting on a brave face – he didn't want anyone to see his distress.

'You arschlochs!' a man with pure white hair hissed in hate, attempting to kick his capturer. He turned his head to glare at yet another materialising shape. 'I swear to any high, superior being that I will kill you for this! Let mein freund and ich go!'

Bruce's eyebrows shot up in puzzlement, his orbs following the place where the strange man was glowering at. His heart jumped into his throat and he clambered onto his feet, knocking Tony into the blonde American with a protested, 'Hey!'

'I'm sorry, my friend?' a silky intonation murmured, the owner swishing their cape importantly. 'What did you say?'

The man with the snowy locks grunted, shaking his head. 'You're insane.'

'Please, will you just let us go?' the bespectacled man whimpered. 'Or do you really want to face the wrath of the others?'

He never received an answer for he and his friend were thrown to the ground, the three darkened entities vanishing without a trace. They spat out dirt and sand, brushing off any particles from their clothing as they stood. The group took a closer look at the duo, their expressions quizzical: one wore rectangular glasses, a long, cobalt coat and a hoary jabot while the other was attired in what looked like an old, unkempt, military uniform.

'What are we going to do?' the spectacled male screeched, slamming his palms down on his friend's shoulders. 'What about the others? Do they know we're here? Do they know what's happening? I –'

'Shut up!' the albino shrieked, clamping a hand over the other's mouth, looking fearfully at the group. He started firing away in a different tongue, waving his arms animatedly, his scarlet spheres wide.

Steve screwed his eyes shut, the intonation of the language sending his memoirs into an overload. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to relive the moments that he wished he could change, didn't want to feel the same emotions he felt at that time now.

'CAN YOU TWO PLEASE BE QUIET!' he hollered, his hands in fists by his sides. All eyes went to him and Tony let out a low whistle. Steve instantly regretted his outburst and he twisted away in shame.

'What's up, Captain Tight-Pants?' Tony ribbed, standing up. 'Can't handle their awesomeness?'

The albino snapped his head towards Tony at this, a huge grin spreading across his face. His friend smacked his forehead and an expression of irritation passed over his features. Steve, on the other hand, growled and grabbed Tony by the lapels of his hoodie.

'There is nothing "awesome" about them,' he seethed. 'You have no idea what I went through and these two just bring back bad memories.'

'What, us?' the albino queried, pointing himself and his acquaintance. 'You don't even know us!'

'I know of your race and what they did,' Steve retorted, releasing Tony and facing the pair. 'You murdered millions of people – and for what?'

'How dare –' the russet-locked man began but the albino cut in with, 'Roderich, nein!' He locked gazes with the blonde American. 'Now look here, you. I find your statement disgusting. How could you possibly make such judgements when you've literally _just_ met us?'

'He has a point, Captain,' Natasha claimed, escaping Clint's hold and walking over to the new arrivals. 'Not to mention that Loki has something to do with them – otherwise, they wouldn't be here.'

'Loki? You know him?' Roderich asked, his hand on his chest.

'Unfortunately,' the group chorused, all with dejected tones.

'So he's been causing you grief, too?' Clint inquired, gesturing to Roderich and the albino. Both nodded.

'Ja,' Roderich replied, scoffing. 'He thought that tormenting Pru – Gilbert and myself would be funny.'

'That little son-of-a –'

'Shut up, Thor,' Bruce interrupted, smacking Thor on his arm. 'He's your brother.'

'He's adopted,' Thor countered, a sour look on his face.

'So, _you're_ his brother!' Roderich exclaimed, appearing delighted. 'He's mentioned you.'

'He has?' Thor asked, baffled.

Roderich nodded, then added hastily, 'Briefly, mind. Doesn't seem to like you that much…'

'Yeah, that's him alright,' said Tony, still curled in on himself to get warm.

Steve whacked him upside the head, to which Tony cried, 'Ow! That hurt, you loser!'

'You're a loser,' Steve argued, his expression aggravated.

'Now, there's no need to be rude,' Gilbert muttered, crossing his skinny limbs over his chest. Steve sent him a dirty look.

'Wait a second,' said Roderich, his eyes going from one face to another. 'You – all of you – you're the Avengers, aren't you?'

'Who?' Gilbert mused, frowning at his friend.

'Loki told me about them,' Roderich told him, 'when you were… elsewhere.'

'How did you guess?' Natasha queried, intrigued. She thought that the newcomers were fascinating, even if the boys were acting cold towards them, especially Steve.

Roderich pointed at Thor. 'One, he said that Loki is his brother. Loki revealed to me that he was part of a "gang" called the Avengers.' He then pointed to Steve. 'Plus, he looks like the superhero on one of Alfred's collection cards.'

'Oh, ja, he does!' Gilbert agreed, inclining his head in affirmation. 'Uh, what's-his-name – America Something…'

'Captain America, you idiot,' Roderich huffed. 'Why do I know you again?'

'Because we're family,' Gilbert rebutted smugly, a large smirk on his pale face. 'As Alfred usually says – deal with it.'

'Who is this Alfred fellow?' Clint inquired, silently slipping an arm around Natasha's hips. 'He sounds interesting.'

'A friend of ours,' Gilbert filled in, waving a hand. His expression turned downcast. 'A friend who is very, very far away from here.'

'How far?' Steve asked.

'Like, Washington D.C. far,' Gilbert replied, sinking to his knees. 'They'll be meeting up now,' he said to Roderich as the latter joined his friend on the ground. 'They must realise we're gone.'

'Maybe…' Roderich pondered, frowning. 'Ludwig would probably notice. Not sure about Elizabeta.'

'Lizzy would notice!' Gilbert proclaimed, looking at Roderich as if he had grown an extra head.

'And who are these people?' Bruce questioned, following the pair's lead to sit back down. The rest of the group mirrored their actions, bringing their legs up to their torsos, mustering all their willpower to not shiver from the cold.

'Ludwig is my younger bruder,' said Gilbert, a soft smile on his face. His ruby eyes swirled with emotion as he gazed at them all. 'And Elizabeta is Roderich's wife.'

'You're married?' Tony cried, his face moulded into a look of surprise. 'You don't seem like the sort to be the marrying kind.'

'Ja, well, we are,' Roderich uttered, his gloved finger tracing patterns in the sandy floor. 'But that is beside the point.' He lifted his head. 'Why are you here?'

'We don't know,' Thor answered, running his large hand through his long, blonde hair. 'We just… appeared here. One minute we're doing our own thing, the next we wake up here.'

'It was very strange,' Steve continued, his former, bitter attitude fading. 'Especially since it happened with no warning. We often get some sort of leak of what is about to happen to the world, what kind of things we're dealing with. This time, we're going blind.'

'It was certainly a surprise to see everyone here,' Natasha said, her dark brows contracted in worry. 'But I'm afraid to find out what Loki has planned for us.'

'We can answer that,' Gilbert interjected, glancing at Roderich. 'He's trying to take over the world using us count – ahem – our relatives, including us two. As to why you are involved… I don't know.'

'He never gives up, does he?' Bruce grumbled, frustrated.

No one answered him, just merely gazed at one another in concern and fear. They all knew that no matter what their rival was planning, it was not good, and they knew that it was going to be hard work and that someone was going to get hurt.

It was the start of yet another war.

* * *

**A/N: There you have it :3**

**Now, before I go, I just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who has left a review and who has favourited/followed this story. You guys make me feel so special. **

**Reviews are much appreciated :3**


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